Ekirei 疫癘
by Hypnos.GodOfSleep
Summary: The Foot Clan is up to something. Something unlike ever before. Mikey disappears...Raphael is taken...One by one, the brothers are picked off in paranormal-like occurrences. The brothers become more and more hopeless at each waking hour utterly afraid for their family's lives. The aching thought at the back of Leo's mind is...they may not win the battle this time.
1. Chapter 1

The turtle brothers were walking down an empty alleyway on a cool midnight of March. They had just finished taking care of a battle of bandits who had been planning to break into the city's bank. Now, the streets were quiet except for the brothers whom were having a loud conversation.

"Leo, man, you're my idol!" Michelangelo told him with confidence. "You took out more guys than all of us!"

"Hey, I was second to 'im!" Raphael forced. "I feel like I got in a lot o' good swings."

"Yeah," Donnie turned to Raph. "You actually clocked _me_ a few times back there..." He rubbed his temple from soreness. Raphael placed his hand on the back of his brother's shell in a bit of embarrassment, but chuckled at his misfortune.

"Mikey," Leo began, "thank you for the compliment. But you know you can be just as good as me or anyone here?"

"But I've been training as long as you guys have and I'm not _nearly_ as good! I keep screwing things up. Tripping, knocking stuff over—I'm surprised I don't have two left feet..."

"To be honest," Donnie commented, "you never really focus on what's in front of you…"

"If you came to trainin' as often as we do," Raph explained, "and stopped playin' video games, then maybe you _would_ be. I mean, you can't even beat one of _us_ in a fight if you tried. And Donnie's right. Just face it; you're scatterbrained."

Mikey tried to argue, but couldn't find the words at first. Once he did, however, he grinned and said, "Maybe...But I bet I could beat you at Black Ops?"

The brothers laughed.

Now close to a nearby manhole, the brothers jumped down below. However, Mikey hadn't leapt right away. He had become distracted by a quick shadow in an alleyway forked from where he was standing. Mikey looked back at the open manhole listening as the turtles conversation and laughter softened the farther they walked away.

He shrugged his shoulders.

"I'll just be gone a second," he told himself. "They won't even know I'm gone..." As he stepped slowly and silently down the way, he called to the open air, "Anyone there? I'm up for another fight!" He stepped a bit further. "Come on now, I don't bite! Hard..." He chuckled. That was something that Raph would have said, he thought. "Show yourself!"

He paused when a suspicious empty can rolled out from behind a nearby dumpster.

Michelangelo pulled out his Nunchaku and inched his way closer. He held a grin on his face ready for another confrontation. "This time, I need to focus. Focus…" Now near the edge, he held his weapons in tight fists ready to strike. But just before he could round the corner of the large bin, a hand reached around from behind and Mikey received a face full of what felt like flour.

He spun around to see who had struck him, however was no longer able to open his eyes. The dust coated his eyes in a thin layer, burning them and making him temporarily blind. His lungs were now filled with the dust making it extremely hard to take a breath. Mikey coughed angrily and wiped the substance off his face as quickly as he could to take in a gulp of clearer air. Through the violent coughing, poor Mikey soon begun feeling disoriented and faint unable to catch a breath.

Mikey rushed to a nearby rain puddle and splashed his face and, without care, _drank_ some of it to dislodge the grainy sensation from his throat. Finally able to breathe without coughing, he stood with weapons drawn now very dizzy and angry at whomever hit him in the first place, more ready than ever to beat the living hell out of someone. But the person had gone. And Michelangelo was all alone. This left him questioning who that was in the first place. It couldn't have been a random pedestrian pulling a prank or anything; they would have run at first sight of Michelangelo...Debating on how methodical it was, there wasn't really much to it. Just to sneak up behind and blind. Then, run away. It was almost like it could have been a teenager. But most obviously, if anyone laid eyes on Mikey, they'd run away in a panic, not pull a prank on him.

He wiped some of the substance off his forehead to examine. It was grey like ash and had a powdery texture. What was it? It didn't look anything like what the Foot Clan usually used as a weapon. And the poor planning of attack was far below them.

Mikey had to get back to his brothers right away and report to them what happened. However, the walk home was more difficult than ever before. He kept passing perfectly good manholes to jump down, but the thoughts felt like they were being sucked from his mind leaving him traipsing from alley to alley.

Eventually, he was able to focus just enough to get to the sewers, however, walking down the empty corridor seemed like it was taking much longer than usual, for the end seemed like it was continuously becoming longer, extending outward, like a suspenseful scene in one of the many scary video games he played.

He reluctantly made it to the front entrance of his home without fainting. When he reached for the handle to open the door, he stopped in his tracks. The pipes, all the ones on the walls surrounding him...started to move. They twisted and waved until the ends of the pipes all turned to Mikey in a hissing sharp-toothed smile.

But...But how?

Panic-stricken, he began swinging his Nunchaku at the walls and ceiling trying his hardest to strike the now lively serpent-like pipes before they could attack. The fear he felt just then was unreal.

Leonardo heard his angry shouts and rushed outside. Instead of helping however, he stood in confusion watching his little brother swinging continuously at nothing at all.

"Mikey!" he called trying to get his attention. Michelangelo turned to Leo then back at the wall. The pipes had returned to their original places. He looked back at Leo mortified. "Are you alright?" To tell the truth, he really wasn't. But how was he to explain?

Too embarrassed for words, he walked on by him and through the door leaving Leonardo confused and concerned.

Reaching the kitchen sink, Mikey splashed water in his face and swirled it around in his mouth to spit, making sure if the reason why he was seeing things and feeling so strange was because of that powder, he wanted it out of his body pronto. But thinking on it, the powder was probably running through his veins by now since he could feel a faint, thin layer of coating in his lungs.

Leo caught up to him and laid a comforting hand across his shell.

"Mikey..."

He looked up at him, clearly scared.

"Are you feeling alright? What _was_ that out there?"

He opened his mouth to tell him everything he suspected was going on. However, as he tried to say even one word, his tongue tied in his mouth. All he needed to get out was 'Foot Clan.' But for some reason, his own body wouldn't allow it.

Frightened beyond belief at what the Foot Clan may have done to him, he did the only thing his body was able to and shook his head. Then, he ran upstairs to his bedroom.

Pacing back and forth now trying to think of a way to tell them what happened, Mikey thought about writing it down. He rushed over to his desk grabbing the nearest pencil and paper. To his disbelief, with every attempt, the pencil only scribbled nonsense.

Mikey threw the pencil enraged.

What had the Foot Clan done? Michelangelo was physically unable to speak or write, he was having hallucinations, feeling dizzy...Whatever they were up to this time, it was frighteningly brilliant. And Mikey had the undeniable thought that they actually might get away with it this time. Whatever they were up to...

Having no other ideas, he plopped down on his bed and tried his hardest not to think about what happened. But he couldn't help himself.

 _If only_ , he thought to himself, _I'd have stayed with my brothers instead of wandering off alone...Maybe the guys are right._ _You_ are _scatterbrained..._ He thought even deeper on the matter. Farther than he should have. _You're a disappointment to your family. You can't do anything right…And now look at you. You may have just started an unbeatable war._

After scolding himself for a few more minutes, he passed out from stress.


	2. Chapter 2

The streets of New York were oddly quiet that night. At least quieter than normal. The alleys were empty; some people stayed home instead of going out to the diner, and the pizza man didn't run...

Even down in the turtle home, not a mouse stirred. Don was nodding off on the couch while Raph relaxed in the recliner chair watching TV at a low volume.

Leonardo couldn't shake the undeniable fact that something was very wrong with his youngest brother, but every time he tried asking him for an answer, he simply shook his head. He couldn't quite put his finger on what was going on, and became worried to the point of heeding the need to tell the others.

When he came downstairs, he stepped into the spacious living room and paused near the television screen. Since Donnie was asleep, he turned his attention to Raph.

"Hey, uh...I've been worried about something."

Raphael scoffed.

"You? Worried? When did _dat_ happen?"

"I'm serious, Raph. It's about Mikey." Just the sound of his name caught Raph's attention.

"Mikey? What 'bout the little guy?"

"I'm worried because he's been acting really strange lately..."

"Strange? Ha! You know who you're talkin' 'bout, right? When has he never been _strange_?"

"Raph—" He walked over and sat on the end of the couch closest to him, "—Did you not notice how he didn't walk back with us after the battle today?"

"Whatcha talkin' about? Coarse, he did. We had a conv'sation 'bout how scatty he was—"

"No, no, after that. When we were already underneath the city. He wasn't with us. I figured he'd be fine—I mean he can handle himself—and he'd be back at about the same time we got home. But he was gone for _hours_. I mean, that would probably be normal for _you_ , but he's never done that before...Later, I heard a noise coming from outside our front door. It sounded like Mikey. When I ran out there, it almost looked like something was attacking him."

"Did you help 'im?"

"Well, no, because there was nothing there. Nothing at all." Raphael's face puzzled. "But, I swear, he must have seen _something._ Something that made him act that way. But I just don't know what. He looked...scared."

"Okay, yeah. That does sound kind o' weird...You asked 'im 'bout it?"

"I have, plenty of times, but he won't answer me..."

"You know, he could be embarrassed? I mean, that don't sound like somethin' I'd want you catchin' _me_ doing."

"Maybe..." Leonardo drew a heavy sigh. It did make sense; he could have just been abashed in his actions, not wanting to talk. But what did he see that made him act out like that?

When Leonardo leaned back to join Raph in watching his show, Donnie slumped over and his head rested on Leo's lap. He couldn't help but to laugh.

"Out like a light," he commented.

Raphael said jokingly, "Check his pulse!" Leo smiled and put his fingers to his neck.

"Uh, oh. I think he's dead. Looks like we have to hide the body..."

"I get his Barracuda Web Filter 810, I call that shit. Man, I can get a lot o' money for that—"

"Fuck you, Raph..." mumbled a weary Donatello. The both of them laughed. Leo shook his shoulder to wake him up enough for him to realize he was using his oldest brother as a pillow.

"Have a good nap?" Leo asked. Don sat up, rubbed the sleep from his eyes, and turned to them with a thoughtful expression.

"I had a freaky dream..."

"Oh? What was it about?" Don held his tongue for a moment trying to remember. But as soon as he reclaimed his thoughts, the sound of blood-curdling shrieks of terror echoed throughout their home. All three brothers shot up from their seats and hastily rushed their way toward Michelangelo's deafening screams.

Expecting another fight, they drew their weapons and burst through Mikey's bedroom door.

"Mikey!" they yelled in unison. Master Splinter wasn't far behind them.

"What is wrong?!" Splinter asked frantic, with his staff in hand. "I heard screams!"

On his knees, and mask nowhere to be found, there were tears streaming down Michelangelo's face. There was no one else in the room but him and he had not a scratch on him. So, they sheathed their weapons.

"NO!" he shouted. The first word he was able to say in hours. "Get it away from me!" The turtle brothers were very confused. Leo knelt down by his side.

"Mikey," Leo began, "there's nothing here. You need to try and relax, buddy."

"I can't!" Mikey threw his hands in his face and leaned up against the end of his bed. "I'm going crazy, I know it..."

"Now, Mikey, don't think that way. Just tell us what's wrong."

"Ev-Everything is moving..." he explained, relieved that he was finally able to communicate. "All I hear is buzzing and ringing..." Leo used a towel to wipe his little brothers face of wetness and they all helped him sit back up on his bed.

"Do you remember what happened after the battle this morning? Where were you those two hours you were gone?"

"Uh...Yeah. Yeah, I remember..." Little Mikey took a few breathes to get his voice steady before continuing. "It sounds crazy, but...Up in the city streets, someone hit me with something. And afterward everything was hazy. I made it down here, but...I started seeing things. And I got scared...But I know who it is. It was—" But his tongue tied once again. He wanted to scream at the top of his lungs, 'It was the _Foot Clan_!' However, was still unable to speak those two single words... "God! I can't even get it out of my mouth..."

Mikey lowered his head ashamed. But when he did, Donnie noticed something at that moment that no one else had.

"Guys, look at this..." He told them, pointing at their little brother. Located on the top of Mikey's head, was something very suspicious. He wiped it off on a clean rag to examine. It was the dust he was hit with. Reluctantly, Mikey hadn't wiped all of it off in his struggle.

"What is that?" Raph commented. Mikey looked up through the tears. Weary eyes saddened with discomfort, they widened in relief once he saw what Donnie was holding.

"That... _that's_ the stuff!" He was overjoyed.

"If that's true, then I'd better get it back to the lab for analysis." Donnie, without another word, left on his mission. Leo turning to Master Splinter, and stated, "Raph is going with me to the lab. If you would, could you stay here with Mikey so he doesn't have to be alone?"

"Of course, my son. But, Leonardo, before you go, you must promise me, whatever is going on here, you must stop it. I don't want anyone else getting hurt." Leo nodded with sincerity. Making a quick glance back at his hurt baby brother, he took his leave. Hopefully whatever was going on, they would find out the answers from Donatello's results. They only hoped...


	3. Chapter 3

No sound uttered in Donnie's lab except for the ginger tapping of technology and the unsettling ticking of the kitchen clock in the background. An uncontrollable quivery breath escaped Leo's lungs. Before the results would ever come back, he would surely go insane.

"I'm sorry this is taking so long," Donatello told him noticing how impatient he had become. "But these things take time."

"I understand…I'm just scared for Mikey. And if we find something wrong—which I hope we don't—then we can fix it."

"Whoever did this to 'im," Raphael growled, "I'm gonna kill 'em."

"And no one would blame you. But until we figure out what's going on here, I don't want any one leaving the sewers. Understand?"

"Oh, great. Jus' like old times. Stuck down here doin' nothin' again."

"Easy, Raph. It won't be as long as last time—Donnie. How much more time left?"

"Um...Calculating how much time has already passed, I'd say roughly ten more minutes."

"Impressive. I was thinking it was going to end up being _hours_ before we received any results."

"Oh, yes, it _is_ impressive! My testing processor is much more advanced than even the highest of government forensic testers in the country—"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Raph cut him off. "You tryin' to sound smart, but all I hear is you showin' off, Mr. _duz_machines_."

Donatello let out an aggravated sigh.

"...You're not going to let that username go, _are_ you?" he grumbled without taking his eyes off his computer screen.

Raph assured him grinning, "Nope."

Don snapped his head in his direction giving off an irate glare. Recognizing this, Leo stepped in before Donnie could say anything in retaliation.

"Guys, settle down," he commanded before a fight broke out. "I can't have you fighting right now. There are more important things at stake here. We need concentration."

"You're right, Leo," Don admitted. "Sorry." Then he turned back to his computer.

"There ya go kissin' ass again..." Raph mumbled. But this time, annoyed as he was, Donnie ignored him.

"The matter has an exceptionally high amount of the coordination compound: hydrochloride. I found traces of rainwater, meaning whatever this is Mikey came in contact with, it was when he was still on the surface. Unfortunately though, the sample was too small, therefore I wasn't able to pull anymore information from it."

Leo cursed to himself. But before everyone was able to lose hope, Donnie formulated an idea.

"There's still one option," he declared. "We can still trace the ash back to its source. There's bound to be remnants of it somewhere up there. If we find enough of it, we can decipher exactly what this substance is and exactly what it does. And once we do, I can create an antidote."

"Good idea—"

"Yeah, _good idea_ , Leo. Where in hell are we gonna know where Mikey was hit? Search every crevice n' pebble? I mean, you said there was rainwater in it—maybe it's already washed away by now."

Don didn't want to believe it, but he slumped down in his seat.

"…You may be right on that one, Raph," he mumbled, glancing over at his computer screen that danced with confusing techno code. "Anymore ideas?"

Leo's eyes narrowed in thought. But before another word was said, the voice of their father sounded from Mikey's room.

"Boys!" Sensei hollered as he hurried down the stairs. The turtle brothers rushed over concerned for Master Splinter's well-being. "Has Michelangelo been down here?"

"What do you mean? He was with you—"

"Yes, I was in his room with him, but he slipped by me somehow."

" _Mikey_ slip by _you_?" Raphael scoffed. "That's impos'ble. Don't matter what circumstance."

"Well, he hasn't been down here." Donnie pulled out his tracker. "He must be around somewhere. I can track him by using this. Wherever he may be, it'll tell us."

"What does it say?" Leo asked. Donnie's expression changed dramatically.

"The scanner...it's indicating that the signal is coming from _outside_ the sewers."

"He already made it out _there_?"

"An' dat fast?"

"Well, there's no time to lose. We have to find him before he runs off any further."

The brothers searched the dark city streets of New York on a hunt for wherever the signal from Mikey's tracker was coming from. The signal changed very quickly and zigzagged at an alarming rate. Much faster than Michelangelo could have ever gone. They followed the strange movement of the signal until it finally came to an abrupt halt.

"He's down this way!" Donnie exclaimed pointing down a nearby alley. But as they came closer, Donnie's exhilaration lessened.

" _Now_ what does it say?" Raph asked becoming irritable.

"It says we're right on top of him. But that can't be right..." But then, Don looked to the ground beneath him. Mikey's tracker sat almost directly between his feet. He picked it up to examine. The side was cracked all the way across the screen.

"He dropped it when he was leapin' a buildin', ya think?"

"I highly doubt it. I specifically designed the trackers to be strong enough to withstand a blast of _dynamite_. This was obviously dropped from a _very_ high place. Though, I can't begin to imagine where..."

The boys looked to the skies in curiosity. Where _did_ that come from? The sky was clear. No planes, no clouds, nor a star in the sky except for the silver moon. However, something finally came into view. From afar, it appeared to be a small object of some sort. And the longer Raphael stared, the sooner he recognized the object was coming closer. And it was headed right for Donatello.

"Don, look out!" He yelled and stepped in front of him just in time. The mysterious spherical object hit him in the very center of his face. The ball was made from very thin rubber and was completely hollow, for when it struck, it burst open releasing a familiar powder. The grey ash forced its way down his throat and embedded deep in his lungs. He now coughed and gagged like a madman—the same as when Mikey was hit.

However, the turtles were there this time to help.

Raphael was coughing so hard, they begun to see blood. Don beat the back of his shell to help dislodge the thick powder form his lungs. After he caught his breath, the air sucked in giving a horrifying wheeze. His breathing was thick and heavy trying to force the air in, still unable to communicate.

"Grab him," Leo commanded grabbed onto Raph's right arm. "We've got to get him back to the lair and get him on oxygen, fast."

"But Mikey—"

"Mike is already gone; I hate to say it. But Raph can't breathe. And we can still get to the bottom of this if we get this powder to the lab. We're bound to have enough this time." As much as Donatello wanted to stay and keep up the search, Leo was right. And besides, Raph _did_ save him from a dark fate.

He grabbed Raph's other arm and lifted him to his feet. The turtle brothers walked to the closest manhole cover and slipped into the sewers. Without the turtles knowledge however, from far off on one of the highest points of the Brooklyn Bridge, someone had been watching them. Someone all too familiar...


	4. Chapter 4

Raphael was put on oxygen once they arrived back at the lair. He fought it at first, but eventually he allowed them to put the mask on for him. Making sure that he was comfortable enough, Donnie collected the new sample from his cheek and combining it with the old, put it through the tester, and crossed his fingers.

"Do you think we'll get some promising results, Don?"

"This time," he told Leo without turning away from his screen, "I'm eighty percent sure."

Leo smirked.

"Only eighty?"

"Well, I'm not _entirely_ hopeful...But this time, we have a greater chance."

Raph tried to say something through the mask, but it was too muffled and asthmatic for anyone to hear. Leo hushed him gently.

"Just relax, Raph. Catch a breath."

The tester alarmed bringing back the results. Don, a bit excited, turned back to his computer screen. But he frowned and slammed his hand down on the table. "G— dammit!" He growled.

"Let me guess..."

Donnie sighed angrily. "It says," he massaged his forehead trying to rub out some of the frustration; "the results are inconclusive. There's not enough of the sample."

The room fell silent for a few moments with tension. Raph took in a few gulps of air and pulled the oxygen mask off.

"Whoever is doin' this," he told them both in a hoarse tone, "I think they're targetin' _all_ of us. And who they wanted next was you, Donnie. But I prevented that from happenin'..." —He took in a few more breathes— "So they'll be comin' after you next. Then, Leo."

"But how am I supposed to prevent that from happening?"

"You need to go back out there and get struck by the ash yourself. But stage somethin' that'll make them _think_ you got hit." That idea was actually quite brilliant of Raphael to come up with. But what exactly could Don do? Just taking a good look at Raph gave him a good thought.

"...Like a mask?" Don stood and walked to a dresser that held miscellaneous items. He pulled open one of the drawers and took out a thick disposable clothe. To his luck the color of the one he chose was close to a forest green. He very lightly drew on a mouth and wrapped it around his face leaving his eyes exposed. Leo had his doubts that something like that could trick anyone, especially the Foot Clan. But it didn't look half bad. And in the dark, it actually almost looked like his face.

Don confidently grabbed his Bo Staff and begun walking toward the front door when Leo stopped him.

Concerned, he asked, "You're leaving _now_? Are you sure about this?"

"Raph is right. I _need_ to do this. And _fast._ Besides, if I don't do it soon...It's the only way to save him, Leo."

He couldn't help but to look over at Raphael. He was already showing signs of change; his eyes were much redder than before and he was fidgeting in an uncomfortable manner. If he didn't go now, it would have been too late by the time he would arrive back. Leonardo turned back to him and nodded allowing him to take his leave.

Once gone on Donatello's mission, Leo tended to Raph trying his best to slow his plummeting health and ease his mind. Nothing much had happened for a bit, just a few physical changes and still a good bit of coughing.

"You still doing alright?" he asked Raph sitting down next to him.

"I guess...My mind is, like, shiftin' around. Everythin's wavy-lookin' and...I feel kind o' sick."

"Hang in there. Don will be back soon enough."

"Well, he ain't hurryin' fast enough..." He closed his eyes from tiredness unable to keep them open any longer. Leo stood back up and was ready to walk away to leave him to his rest, but Raph spoke up again. His voice sounded so tragic when he spoke...

"Leo!" a soft fretful whisper escaped him. But when Leo turned back to see what was wrong, the blood rushed from his face and he nearly fell backward on his ass from shock. The oxygen mask and his red, battle-beaten ribbon were resting silently on the empty table. Somehow...Raphael had _vanished_. And in the blink of an eye.

"Raph?!" he called for him bewildered. Raphael _is_ a ninja, but to disappear in a split second—in critical condition nonetheless—is far beyond what they'd ever trained for. Where could he have gone? That very incident must have been what happened to Sensei. He may have just turned for only a moment and just like that, Mikey was gone somehow. Whatever this _ash_ bullshit was, it was definitely something far beyond the four turtles comprehension.

It wasn't possible for him to be in the lair. The only logical place he could have been was wherever Michelangelo must have ended up. He could positively have gotten very far since Raphael was the fastest turtle of all of them. Therefore, with no time to lose, Leo bolted his way to the front entrance and out into the sewers.

He forced his way through the long corridors making his way up above. Now at the tracks of the subway, he searched with his eyes which way was the fastest route.

His eyes scanned over something in front of him, something big, down below. In the darkness, to Leonardo's relief, it was Raph. Sitting ever so still on the tracks.

This time, he kept his eye on him.

"Raph?" Leo's voice trembled. "Jus—Just stay there, okay?" He slowly made his way over. Rounding him to the front, his face slowly came into view. And the more Leo saw, the more he wanted to look away.

"Oh, my god..." he said to himself unsure what was happening to his younger brother. Raph's face now had soft blue veins on the edge of his bottom lip. And his left eye was turning foggy. His breathing was one of the most horrifying things Leo had ever heard. It sounded much worse than before.

"Come on, Raph..." Leo grabbed for his arm slowly. Once he had a grip, he helped him to his feet. Then, he shook his head hopelessly. How could he have let this happen? If only he had kept his eye on Mikey...None of this would have happened. Leo begged, "Donnie, please...You're our only hope." And walked Raph home with a heavy heart.


End file.
